Break
by Never Forevermore
Summary: "Promise me that no matter what happens... No matter what I do to you or say to you, promise me that you won't break. You won't let me break you." His hold on her tightened slightly. "Promise me." "I promise, Draco." Rated M for detailed torture.


**Break**

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_Rated M for detailed torture._

* * *

"Crucio."

She screamed.

They were tearing at her. Countless hands with jagged nails, burrowing and digging into her flesh, ripping and shredding her muscle. She screamed and thrashed, flailing her hands in an effort to beat the burrowing hands away. She did nothing but infuriate them. Enraged, they gripped pieces of her and pulled. Muscles, skin, veins, arteries... Anything they could reach. Torn from her, yanked, blood spurting... She screamed louder.

The hands were sweaty and rough, burning her mangled flesh with sweat and dirt and grime. They suddenly gripped her limbs, her fingers at first. They pulled. She screamed bloody murder. They were ripping her apart! They pulled and jerked until the stray muscle and tendons snapped, her fingers no longer attached to her body.

The wand pointed at her flicked lazily and the pain instantly stopped. She lay panting and clammy on the ground, her frail body trembling like a leaf.

"Speak."

She lowered her head and closed her eyes in an attempt to block out the pain and soreness that still rocketed through her mind and body.

"Where is Potter?"

She looked up and met frigid steel gray eyes. She choked a laugh and forced a grin. "Bugger off Malfoy."

"Crucio."

_"They're planning something big, Potter." Malfoy placed his elbows on the table before him and covered his face with a hand. "If you want to beat the Dark Lord, you need to do it soon."_

_Harry Potter sighed and nodded, running a hand through his untameable black hair. "Alright Malfoy. Are you sure?"_

_The blond scowled and glared darkly at the pacing figure of the boy-who-lived. "Bloody positive."_

_Harry continued his pacing for a moment, the entire conference room staring at him with the exception of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger (who was staring off into space with a frown on her face.) The Order of the Phoenix meeting room was largely silent, not counting the tap of Potter's shoes on the ground. They were already a year and a half into the war against Voldemort and things were getting desperate. Five of the Order's seven spies had been discovered by the Death Eater's and executed. As of right now, the Order's only source of intelligence was Malfoy and Snape. And now both of them had notified the Order of something big, something that could change the outcome of the war._

_Harry Potter exhaled forcefully and screwed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, his emerald green eyes were determined. He gazed down the long table that all of the higher ups of the Order of the Phoenix were seated at and met the intelligent eyes of Hermione Granger._

_"Hermione, we're on the offensive now. You heard Malfoy, we need to strike. Can you come up with a plan?"_

_Hermione paused, scouring her mind for any ideas. After a few seconds a small, grim smile possessed her lips. She nodded slightly._

_"Alright. Next meeting is in a day's time. Hermione will share her plan with us and we'll begin preparations. We strike within the week."_

_The table murmured, all nodding and whispering their assent._

_"Meeting adjourned."_

She keened a high wail, curling up on herself. The hands. They were back. And they had daggers. She screamed, thrashing in a desperate attempt to escape them. She managed to do nothing but smash her skull into the ground. Stars leaped before her eyes, but it was nothing compared to the hands.

They started at various parts of her body, digging the points of the knives into her skin and cutting her slowly. She tried to move and knock them away, but she only managed to make the sharp points sink deeper into her flesh. They trailed along her skin, cutting long strips. She sobbed in relief as the blades left her skin only to have a shrill scream ripped from her throat as the hands gripped the strips of skin and pulled. They were peeling her skin off like a child would peel an orange. She wailed as she felt the blood gush from her body, as the grimy floor of the room rubbed dirt and filth into her raw, expose muscle.

The wand waved in front of her and the pain immediately stopped. Her body convulsed against her will, muscles spasming and limbs twitching.

"Where is the Order, mudblood?" His handsome face was curled into a bored sneer, looking disgustedly at the filthy woman on the ground before him.

She choked out a weak laugh. "Fuck off Malfoy, you bloody inbred wanker."

"Crucio."

_"Malfoy. Malfoy!" Hermione ran after the tall blond's retreating figure. He turned around with a raised brow._

_"Granger?"_

_"Er... hey... So. Um. How are you doing?" She spoke awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to say, but wanting to speak to him all the same. "With the spy thing, I mean." She clarified in a rushed voice, a spattering of red appearing on her cheeks._

_Draco stared at her strangely. Hermione mentally kicked herself for the stupid question. "Fine, I suppose? I mean, beside the constant burn of this bloody mark and the constant threat on my life." His tone was dry._

_She let loose a shaky laugh and twirled a stray strand of her curly hair around a slender finger. "Look, Malfoy..." He stared at her expectantly as she paused, waiting for her to continue. "Just... Just be careful, alright?"_

_Draco stared at her in shock for a moment before an arrogant smirk spread across his thin lips. "Why Granger," He drawled in his silky smooth voice, stepping closer to her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you fancied me."_

_Hermione blushed and scowled, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'ferret.' Malfoy rolled his eyes with good humor._

_"Look, I also had a few questions about Voldemort."_

_He immediately sobered. "What do you need to know?" He asked cautiously._

_"In what instance would Voldemort be out in the open?"_

_Draco paused, considering her question. "The Dark Lord usually stays under the radar unless there is a battle. He tends to only show himself in the flesh at important meetings or if someone important has been captured and is being tortured for information." He spoke slowly, contemplating the habits of his Lord._

_Hermione nodded, her face dark and thoughtful. "Is there an important meeting coming up soon?"_

_"No."_

_She cursed quietly to herself. "Alright. Thanks Malfoy." She ran a hand tiredly through her curly hair._

_"It's my job Granger." Malfoy turned on his heel and continued down the hall away from the meeting room. He was halfway down the hall when Hermione called out for him again._

_"Malfoy!"_

_"Yes Granger?" He ground out impatiently._

_"Be... Be careful. Take care of yourself Draco."_

_A small smile quirked up the corner of his lips, almost too tiny to notice. "You too, Hermione."_

Her throat was beyond raw. She could taste the iron tang of blood trickled down her throat and windpipe, and grimaced, panting and gasping for air. She was a terrible sight. Her beaten, bruised, and bleeding body was barely covered by the gray rag-remnants of her old clothes. Her usually tanned skin was graying and covered in dirt, the bright crimson blood melting tracks through the grime. Her body shuddered involuntarily and she attempted to kneel.

The Death Eaters around her snickered at her weak state, sneering at her filthy body before sending Malfoy looks of approval, encouragement, and anticipation. Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself, sat leisurely on an ebony and silver throne with Nagini coiled loyally around the base and the back of the ornate seat. His sickly, sour milk face was curdled in a smirk as he gazed at the mudblood below him distastefully.

Malfoy stretched his neck lazily, joints popping loudly and echoing nauseatingly in the vast cavern. He raised his steely eyes and met his Lord's own cold stare. Voldemort flicked his wrist, motioning for Malfoy to continue. The Death Eaters grinned and looked to the center of the room in excitement.

"Crucio."

_Hermione flicked her wand and a three dimensional map of Voldemort's cavern appeared at the center of the meeting table. She paced briskly along the side of the table, her long curly hair coiled up messily into a bun. Dark shadows hung under her eyes and her features seemed unusually severe._

_"Alright," She said firmly as all eyes in the room turned to her and the diagram she conjured. "According to our intelligence," she cast a glance at Malfoy who was leaning back in his chair with his strong arms crossed across his chest, "This is most likely where the battle will be. Voldemort is only out in the open for three occasions. Battles, vital meetings, and the torturing of valuable prisoners for information. Taking him out in open combat is too risky. There's a low chance of success and the death toll will undoubtedly be overwhelming. Attacking during a meeting is not possible. He only attends high end meetings in the flesh and, as of right now, there are no such meetings coming up. So," Hermione looked around the table with determination, making sure she still held everyone's undivided attention, "that leaves us with the final option." A grim fog descended over the meeting._

_Hermione took a deep breath and pressed on as no questions were posed. "There are two entrances, one here and here." She pointed to two openings on the model. "Malfoy can instruct us how to enter. Death Eater garb is easy to simulate. We'll have to be careful with the Dark Mark, however. They use it pretty much as a membership card and there's no way we can replicate the Mark to that standard. So we'll have to be cautious and act in character so as not to draw suspicion until we strike."_

_"Won't they be suspicious if over a hundred 'Death Eaters' suddenly appear?" Someone asked quietly from the opposite side of the table._

_"Not really. It's common for large numbers of Death Eaters to show up for torture exhibitions. It's their amusement. They take bets on how long the prisoner will last." Malfoy drawled from his perch._

_"Right. Now, short, sweet, and to the point. Draw out Voldemort, disguise ourselves as Death Eaters and infiltrate the place, strike when Voldemort is most distracted. He's our primary target, Harry will kill him immediately. Everyone else will deal with the Eaters." Hermione cut straight to the point, sensing everyones growing impatience._

_Soft murmurs swirled around the table in consideration._

_"How do we draw him out?"_

_"Pardon?"_

_"You said He-who-must-not-be-named only appears for important questionings. How are we going to achieve that?"_

_Hermione stared at the speaker with a raised brow, a wryly humored smile stretched across her lips. "Well, let's think about that, shall we? Voldemort only draws out of the shadows when an important prisoner is being questioned. Using this lovely thing called logic, we can deduce that this means we'll need someone important to act as bait, one of our own to be 'captured' and be... questioned to bring Voldemort forward."_

_The whispers around the table grew louder and more frantic._

_"Are you suggesting we give up one of our own to be tortured and, most likely, killed?"_

_"We're already low on numbers-"_

_"-not humane!"_

_"-slaughter."_

_Harry Potter sat at the head of the table, silent despite the chaos around him. His expression was dark and a finger was pressed firmly against his temple in concentration. Ron Weasley sighed from his seat next to Harry._

_"This is war," Hermione reminded everyone coldly._

_The room was doused in frigid silence. It was as if years went by as the silence stretched, everyone considering Hermion's plans and statement somberly._

_"Alright Granger," Draco Malfoy's smooth drawl cut through the pause. "Who?"_

_Hermione turned her gaze to stare at him questioningly._

_"Who's doing it? Who's the bait?"_

_Hermione remained quiet, staring at the blond man across from her._

_"Well Granger? Who are we going to give up who is so important that the Dark Lord will slither out of his dank hole and into the open? Will we be handing over Potter, perhaps?" Malfoy sneered, looking at the young woman skeptically. "Who?"_

_Hermione remained silent for a moment more before grinning and canting her head to the side._

_"Moi, of course."_

"AHHHHHH! No!, NOOOO! PLE-" Hermione slammed her jaw closed, refusing to beg, refusing to give those bastards the satisfaction. She barely noticed the flavour of blood burst from her tongue, to focused on avoiding _them_. "No, NO!"

They were crawling all over her, hundreds of them, thousands of them! Scurrying, their sharp claws scratching and digging into her, biting, gnawing! She curled in on herself, somehow making it to her knees. They were all over her; she could see them scuttle from the shadows and swarm around her. Desperately, she smacked at herself, crushing them and swatting them beneath her palm. It seemed to do them no harm; they continued their raid on her body without hesitation. And then they started to burrow.

"NOO!" Her screams echoed harshly, only seeming to affect her with their erratic pitch. They were digging into her! Digging and clawing and _burrowing_ into her flesh as if she was nothing but a dirty mound for them to populate. She scratched at herself with dirty, jagged nails, stabbing at the holes they were making in her skin. The lumped forms swam underneath her flesh and more followed their brothers' example and began their own voyage into her body. She screamed, wail after wail, her distress falling on deaf ears. The sharp edges of her nails gouged easily through her skin as if it was warm butter and she frantically dug after them, grabbing handfuls of them and wrenching them from under her skin only to have them replaced by more mere seconds later. Harsh welts littered her body from her own hands, angry red lines that oozed blood and offered even more openings for them to crawl into.

The gathering was silent as, time after time, her own nails found previous gashes in her scarred flesh and dug further into them, ripping into her already gruesome wounds. She attempted to clamber to her feet, scratched at her face, her shoulders, her sides..., only managing to pitch herself off balance and slam sideways into the ground. She writhed, floundering on her side, her hands digging deeper into her own skin.

Malfoy waved his wand, ending the unforgiveable, and she gasped, her chest heaving and her entire body shuddering. Her breaths were erratic pants, barely providing her body enough oxygen to function, the cool, rotting air burning it's way down her throat.

"I can do this all night, mudblood." Malfoy grinned.

Hermione heaved out a mocking laugh with difficulty, shuddering as her skin crawled. "Oh please, ferret. From what I've gathered by the female Hogwarts population, your stamina is less than impressive." Her voice was weak and scratchy, her stab at him punctuated by pain filled gasps and heaving coughs.

Malfoy's gaze hardened as hisses of anger spread throughout the cavern. He looked to his Lord. Voldemort's nod of permission was barely perceptible, but it must have been given for in the next moment, her head jerked sharply to the side and a resounding crack echoed darkly. She spat the blood from her mouth, too weak to wipe at the liquid flowing down her chin. Malfoy sneered, wiping her blood from his hand disgustedly. He stared down at her with a curled lip before propelling his foot forward suddenly, nailing her in the ribs.

A strangled cry bubbled from her torn lips as her body lurched and rolled, landing limply at the feet of an observing Death Eater. She stared up, glassy eyed, into the familiar emerald green eyes she had known for the past decade. The eyes were forcefully emotionless and the corner of her lips lifted infinitesimally. The Death Eater sneered before brandishing his own wand.

She winced as he levitated her body. He waved his wand in Malfoy's direction. She didn't even have the strength to whimper as she crashed to the ground before the blond man. Her body convulsed with dry heaves and the blood seemed to cascade from her mouth. The simple motion sent pain rocketing through her body from her ribs. She put her arms underneath her, making a feeble attempt to raise her upper body. Hermione managed to lift herself only a few inches off of the ground before her arms gave way and she sprawled back to the floor. Her vision swam dizzily and she felt cold and clammy. Her skin was dangerously pale and gray under all the filth.

_Blood loss_, she recognized grimly.

Almost as if he had read her mind, he levitated her to him and forced a bright red blood replenishing potion down her throat before carelessly letting her fall back to the ground with a frail crunch.

"Like I said, I can do this all night. You'll be past broken by the time I'm done." His eyes flashed, a splash of an unreadable expression exposed solely to her for a fraction of a second. He raised his wand gracefully. "Crucio."

_"No."_

_"What?" Hermione snapped,, exhausted edging her voice._

_Draco Malfoy's tall, lean form blocked her desired path down the hall. He glared down his nose at the petite woman before him._

_"You bloody well know what I said, Granger." He snapped back, eyes narrowing in irritation. "You aren't going through with this ridiculous scheme of yours." Venom dripped from his voice and Hermione bristled._

_"Why not? It's the best plan we have other than sitting her all pretty, waiting for **them** to totally decimate our forces!"_

_"Because I said so, Granger!"_

_"I know this comes as a shock to you, but this isn't all about **you** Draco!"_

_"It's not about you either, Hermione! Trying to go all hero, sacrificing yourself for a harebrained scheme you don't even know will work!"_

_"There are always risks-"_

_"Bullshit!" Draco launched a pale fist and punched the wall beside her head. He had advanced on her during their heated debate and had her pinned between his firm body and the unforgiving stone. "Calculated risks, calculated risks! You don't just throw yourself to the Dark Lord and expect the best. You'll die, Hermione!"_

_"Why do you even care? You **don't**!" Hermione screamed, pushing at his chest with all her might, willing him to budge. He was as unmoving as the wall behind her._

_When he spoke again, Malfoy's voice was quiet and deadly. "Don't you dare presume you know how I feel, Gra-"_

_"How is anyone supposed to know anything? You don't speak to anyone, you don't open up to anyone, no matter how hard I- No matter how hard we try!"_

_Draco's eyes crackled in cold anger. He wrenched her hands from his chest, preventing her from pushing or punching him anymore, and effectively pinned them above her head with one of his own large palms._

_"You want to know so bad, Granger? You want to know why?" He glared at the witch before him with a scowl. "Fine, you win Hermione." He let his head fall, almost appearing ashamed, eying the ground. He remained silent, however._

_"Why?" Hermione prompted quietly, freeing one of her hands and setting it gently on his forearm. "Why"_

_"I'll break you," he murmured, almost to himself. "I'll break you. I can't... If you do it... If you go to them, I'll break you."_

_Hermione just stared at him, not fully understanding what he was trying to tell her. "What?"_

_Malfoy raised his head, meeting her confused gaze slowly. "I'm the questioner, Hermione." His voice was strained. "After I- after I failed the Dark Lord with Dumbledore, he put me in a position that would constantly prove my unwavering devotion to him. I'm the main torturer. I'm the one who questions most of the prisoners and executes them. If you give yourself over to them, I'll be the one..." He trailed off and released her from his hold, raising a freed hand to squeeze his temples. "I can't do that Hermione, I can't break you." He whispered her name gently, curling it like music around his tongue. "Fuck Granger, I care too much about you, I can't..."_

_Hermione was frozen stiff. She licked her lips nervously and her brow furrowed. She raised her hand cautiously to his cheek. "Draco," Gather her courage, she rose to her tippy-toes and pressed her lips softly to his._

_If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Draco's longer fingers threaded through the thick tresses at the base of her neck, tugging gently to tilt her head more towards him and make her mouth easier to plunder._

_"Draco..." Hermione sighed as they broke apart, both of their breathing becoming increasingly heavy. He rested his forehead against hers._

_"Hermione... **please.**"_

_"I can't, Draco." She murmured against his lips. "I'm sorry, but I can't. Someone has to do it and I..."_

_Her heart throbbed as his face clenched in something akin to pain._

_"I understand."_

_She gasped as he suddenly drew her flush to his body, wrapping his arms firmly around her and resting his chin on the top of her head._

_"Promise me Hermione," He murmured, his chest rumbling under her touch. "Promise me that no matter what happens... No matter what I do to you or say to you, promise me that you won't break. You won't let me break you." His hold on her tightened slightly. "Promise me."_

_Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and melted into him. "I promise, Draco. I promise you."  
_

Her body jerked involuntarily and Hermione laughed. She was aching, unable to feel any part of her body, only knowing that she was still whole physically by the tearing pain. Underneath it all, her limbs almost felt asleep, as if she had a case of the pins and needles. A spasm ran through her muscles and she laughed again.

Whispers rose through the gathering. Had she snapped? Was the great Hermione Granger finally broken? Voldemort himself leaned forward slightly, a non-existent brow raising. Malfoy's wand lowered slowly and he stared down at her quaking body.

"Speak, filth."

Her limbs twitched, a clear indicator that she'd been under the cruciatus for a long time. Spurred by the movement, another collection of loud giggles and laughs escaped her mouth as she rolled on the ground.

Malfoy's lip curled in irritation as he sneered. "Your friends aren't coming, mudblood. And even if they did, they've no chance. Is that what you're hoping? That they'll come and rescue you?" He began to circle her, speaking quietly in his lazy drawl, black words of sin seducing her ears. "That that ridiculous blood traitor will swoop in here and seep you off your feet?" He paused by her head, spitting at her. "Perhaps they will come," he mused, continuing his rounds. "And if they do, I'll be sure that they see every inch of your revolting self and watch you writhe like a worm on the ground. I'll kill them slowly, just for you mudblood."

Hermione choked out a rough laugh, her entire form shaking with her raucous vocalizations. The gash across her cheek that ran to the bottom of her chin split back open at her movements, the dark, dried blood cracking and flaking. Bright red glared from the cracks and seeped through, spiderwebbing it's way down her face and across her neck. Even more blood bubbled from her cracked lips, staining her white teeth as she laughed.

"Fuck you, Malfoy. It'll take a lot more than that to break me."

The crowd of observing Death Eaters seemed to have grown even larger and the hiss they uttered was undeniably snake like. The pair of emerald eyes met a pair of blue ones across the cavern briefly before sparing a quick glance around the place, almost as if he was estimating numbers. The Death Eater's shoulders slumped ever so slightly and he returned his focus to the blond man's work. Malfoy merely smirked before flicking his wand.

"Crucio."

* * *

_A/N: Most of my stories will not include consistent author's notes throughout them, but I thought this one was necessary._

_This story is rated M for detailed torture. I apologize if this is not your cup of tea. However, I hope I did do this scenario some justice._

_A lot of stories about the war or about people under the cruciatus curse seem to... skirt over it. I don't think the cruciatus curse is a simple thing that can just be brushed off by the victim. I wanted to give a view of what it might be like to actually be under the curse. Anyways, I'm tired and I can't seem to form coherent sentences right now. Apologies for typos, spelling mistakes, and grammatical errors. This is a oneshot. Any and all feedback is appreciated._

_**Firesspawn:** It doesn't cause physical damage, it's all mental. Hermione's more... hallucinating. Physically, she's not being harmed. The curse, however, makes her think and see things torture her. The dismembered hands, 'creatures', etc. Her injuries are from prior beatings (and being smashed around like a rag doll heh) and her own hands. You're very much correct, and I apologize for the confusion. C:_

_**Keesha:** This is the end. I'm doing a series of short stories/oneshots that are titled along the alphabet. None of them have anything to do with the next. I'm very glad you like it, but I'd like to leave it here. However, if someone else wants to continue it, they are more than welcom. ;)  
_

_Next in the series is 'Check Yes Juliet.'_


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